I am Here, I'm Looking at Her, and She is Beautiful

Dear friend, I'm writing to you
Because she said that you listen and understand
Call me Charlie and I'll leave it at that
Because I'm scared you might know who I am
I lost a friend last spring, poor Michael
He didn't leave a note
Called it problems at home

I feel so alone
I think it's getting bad again

I met some friends named Patrick and his sister Sam
She has pretty green eyes that make a pretty big deal
And they brought me to a party at Bob's
Had a brownie, got stoned
And walked in on Brad and Patrick
Swore to secrecy that I wouldn't tell anyone
And he said, "you see things, you keep quiet, but you understand."

Over Christmas I read them a poem
About a brown paper bag
And the boy who wrote it
And they gave me a suit
And a typewriter too
They said, "Write about us."

I'm gonna miss them when they leave for college
Hope I'll make it on my own
I feel so infinite, I thought you ought to know
Dear friend, I'll try to write more
But I'm learning to participate
Things will be good for me
And when they're not, they will be soon enough